


Cursed - The Early Years

by Aivy



Series: Cursed [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Female Harry Potter, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 03:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17338010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aivy/pseuds/Aivy
Summary: Sequel to Cursed (now renamed as prologue) and second part of a longer series.Explores the early years of Dorea Potter after her parents have been killed that fateful Halloween night and she has been cursed by Voldemort with Severus Snape as wittness.





	Cursed - The Early Years

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: Eventually Mature when we get to Hogwarts, change to Explicit might be necessary  
> Pairing(s): I don’t know yet. It might be Severus, or Sirius, or Neville. I can rule out the Malfoys. Or maybe I’ll ship her with one of the girls, Hermione, Ginny, or Luna. I’m very open to everything right now and haven’t planned much ahead. I’ve certainly not thought about any side-pairings.  
> Warnings: Canon level of child abuse. There may be graphic sex-scenes in later parts and chapters, probably dub-con / non-con and graphic violence. I’m not kind to my characters! Tags will be added if necessary.

Petunia Dursley was content with her life. Not happy, but content. While she missed her parents who had both died too young, and in rare moments of honesty even her sister who was as good as dead to her since sometime when they had both been teens, she felt secure in her normalcy and she was sure that no place on earth could be less magical than her suburbian home on Privet Drive, Surrey, with its neat rows of houses and trimmed gardens.

But her normalcy and with it her feeling of security was about to be shattered when she opened the door on November 2nd 1981 in the early morning hours to fetch the milk from the front step and was greeted by a sight that would haunt her dreams for the years to come. Not because the sight of a sleeping baby in itself was horrible - though she asked herself who could be so cruel or careless to leave a baby alone in the open on a cold autumn night - but because of what it meant for the peace of her life and that of her family.

With trepidation, Petunia picked up the child that looked about as old as her Dudley - if not as well-rounded - and carried it inside. Both her husband and her baby-boy were still asleep and would not rise before she had breakfast ready. She was thankful for that as nobody was there to witness her break-down when she read the letter that had been left with her niece and in the solitude of her pristine kitchen, she allowed herself to grieve for her sister, the little red-headed girl that had been precious to her once upon a time.

/( | )\ /( | )\ /( | )\ /( | )\ /( | )\ /( | )\ /( | )\ 

“It’s unnatural!”

For what felt like the hundredth time, Vernon listened to the declaration of his wife in the three days since the devil’s spawn had been admitted into his home. He had long since given up to appease the agitated woman. If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t sad about the fact that the girl persistently refused to make a fuss. His own son cried enough for the both of them.

“It isn’t healthy,” Petunia continued her rant. “Even at eighteen months old, children cry all the time, like our little Dudders,” - unnoticed by his wife, Vernon shuddered at the nickname Petunia had given their precious son - “it’s their way to communicate. They can’t talk yet. And she hasn’t made a single sound! She doesn’t even wake if Dudley has a fit right beside her! Something is severely wrong with the girl!”

The shrill voice made his head ache. With a sigh, Vernon closed his newspaper and looked at his upset wife.

“Tuney?” He got her attention. “Does she eat?”

Petunia nodded.

“Does she sleep?”

Nod again.

“Does she look like she is ill or that something is amiss?”

A shake of the head.

“Then let the child be. We already know it’s likely she’s a freak. I don’t care if she is too quiet. This way, at least, I’m not aware of her all the time. Let it rest,” he ordered. And while Petunia didn’t look totally convinced, she didn’t bring it up for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Very short chapters for now. I have to get into the flow of writing.
> 
> No update schedule. Updates will be irregular.


End file.
